He came from the mountains our little town And he never spoke a word. But he played every day in a lovely way Little tunes I had never heard. When he played his flute His eyes seemed to be like mirrors times gone by. I don't know if I saw what I not see But I looked right into his heart. I looked right into his heart.
I found out evening only by chance Where he spent his lonely nights. There he slept in the on the marble floor And his flute lay by his side. As I woke him up and said ”Won't you come to my house where it's and warm” He said ”Please let me be, for I am not free And I don't wanna break your heart I don't wanna break your
When early one morning I came to the place Where he to play his flute. He was gone but a song that will never die Seemed to linger on in the sky. He's an Indio boy And his folks far away they are praying Indio boy come home when you are man.
He's an Indio Boy and he longs for the girl who is waiting Indio Boy come home as soon you can..